Shelter Manager Resigns with Sadness but Hope

A portion of an email forwarded to me from a friend.  This brings back so many memories in my tenure with my local shelter.  I love Kirsten's "can do" attitude.  This is what makes change happen.  I am submitting this email in two parts as it is pretty long for a blog post.  But I wanted to share it with everyone who is in animal shelter work.  It is inspiring.


It's with a mixture of, accomplishment, sadness and countless other emotions that I send you the following news. Effective November 19, 2009, exactly two years to the day, I will step down as director of the Flathead County Animal Shelter. These past two years have been the most rewarding, challenging, and fulfilling of my professional and personal life. When I accepted the job in 2007, I told myself and a few of you that I planned to stay for two years. And here we are, two years later. It’s time for me to tend my own herd: my animals who have made room for countless fosters, many of whom stayed on permanently; my husband, who is the kindest, most caring man on the face of this earth and who has personally saved many of the animals I brought home; and my extended family and friends who haven’t seen or heard from me much in recent years.
I have taken the shelter as far as I can. The mission has been established and the vision is clear. Now it is time for someone to take over daily operations to ensure sustainability of both the mission and the organization itself. This is not my forte; I leave the shelter knowing that I have accomplished what I came to do and as painful as it is to leave, it would be more difficult to stay. Saving homeless and unwanted animals is work that belongs to us collectively; in my case that means it’s time to let someone else lead the organization to the next stage.
We’ve accomplished in lightning speed what some shelters never attain: a shelter where it's safe to be a homeless pet, where love and care abound inside a homely building that had a history of fear, despair, and sorrow. Together, we set out to change the course of that history and prove that with a little love, a lot of hard work, and a simple refusal to euthanize animals without cause, we could establish FCAS as a leading shelter in the northwest. And prove that being an open-admission shelter does not mean euthanizing for convenience. To those who say it can't be done, you can look them in the eye and say "yes it can, I know, because I work at/volunteer for/support a shelter that does it every day."
I believe that to make real change, you don't timidly knock and ask permission to come in. You yell, "Hi, I'm here!" and then kick in the damn door. Sure, some thought we were crazy (some still do) and that first year was definitely tough. But we made it, hundreds of lives were saved and the good things just keep coming. We've made peace with a few non-believers, gained countless supporters, honored the community that demanded change by giving them a shelter they can be proud of, and built a network of rescuers that are the heart of our success.
In just two years, the shelter's Live Release Rate, or "save" rate has increased from a dismal 65% at best to close to 90%, on average. This is a phenomenal accomplishment. Without you, it would not have been possible. To continue on this remarkable journey, the shelter staff and administration will need the support of the community and volunteers more than ever. Improving the shelter is a journey, and there is still a ways to go.